


Watch the World Burn: Let Slip the Dogs of War

by LadyCorvidae, roseforthethorns



Series: Watch the World Burn [7]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Cuddling, Danger, Established Relationship, Fear, Grudge, Handcuffs, Kinky sex, M/M, Making Up, Possible Loss, Premature grey, School year trauma, Sexual Teasing, Snogging, Swearing, Teasing, Tension, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-03
Updated: 2012-09-04
Packaged: 2017-11-13 11:53:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/503262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyCorvidae/pseuds/LadyCorvidae, https://archiveofourown.org/users/roseforthethorns/pseuds/roseforthethorns
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim's turn</p><p>Ladycorvidae, you are my better half and better brain.</p><p>(I own nothing of these characters. All Sherlock rights go to the BBC, Moffat, and Gatiss. I'm just having some fun.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. All Talk, No Bite

**Author's Note:**

> WIP. Just so you know

Jim sighed as he paced... a job. He was eager to get back to work but still worried about leaving Seb. The consulting criminal took a deep breath and steeled his resolve; he had to get back in the saddle; couldn't have the rest of the criminal world thinking that he had gone _soft_. They'd be all over him like maggots on a corpse if he showed an ounce of weakness. Putting on his trademark smirk, Jim walked over to where Seb was sitting and gave him a long kiss. "I'm off on a job, my love," he murmured. "I should be back soon."

Sebastian managed to thread his fingers briefly into Jim's hair before the smaller man pulled away. "You don't _have_ to go."

"I must, though. Can't show them a weak side," he said, cupping Seb's chin in his hand.

"And I have to stay? _Really_?"

"Really. You're still recovering, and I'll be too distracted if you're there. Although I'd normally welcome it, right now it would be too much. I'm sorry," he said.

The blonde fought to keep the scowl off his face. "Sure. Yeah. I get it. Need me to not be a liability today... just be careful, all right? Even after last week... you still haven't been yourself."

Jim kissed Seb again, smoldering. "Don't worry. Next week, I have a job lined up for the _both_ of us," he reassured his husband.

"Mmmmm, bet you do," the older man mumbled against Jim's lips, tugging the consulting criminal down onto his lap.

He chuckled as he rocked slightly against his lover. "No no, Tiger. _This_ is a job for when I get home," he promised.

"But I want it _now_ ," Seb growled, holding Jim tighter and rocking up as his lips trailed to the sensitive pulse point that made his lover quiver.

Jim groaned low in his throat. "Not _now_ , Seb," he said as he disentangled himself. "Daddy has a job to do."

Sighing, the blonde slumped back in his chair, shamelessly palming his erection through his pajama bottoms. "If you insist. Catch you on the flipside, then?"

Jim's eyes flicked to the impressive bulge that Seb was sporting. He swallowed hard and gathered his wits. "Yes... catch you on the flipside, my heart," he said as he walked out the door.

As the door shut, Seb started panicking. "I love you!" he hollered.

Jim caught the door before it closed all the way. "I love you too," he said, smiling softly. Then he closed the door behind him, the lock clicking home with a very final sounding - _snickt_ -. Erection nearly gone from anxiety, Seb curled up in his chair and started counting the minutes until Jim would return.

oOoOo

Jim sighed as he got out of the car and began walking towards the seedy hotel where the meeting was going to be held. His thoughts were in many different places as he climbed the stairs: the job, the possibilities of it, not being seen as soft, Seb waiting for him at home, dinner... _after_ dinner...

He smiled as his body was filled with images and sense memories of Seb's mouth and body and sinful tongue. Oh, that was going to be _nice_. He reached the door a few seconds later and knocked the signal, three short, sharp raps and two longer ones. The door swung open to him and he walked in, eyes flicking around the room and cataloging the occupants; three men; one brain and two brawn. He sat at the table, steepling his fingers in front of his face.

"So... you requested my presence, said it was matter of the utmost urgency, if I recall," he said, regarding the man in front of him. "What is it that needs _my_ help so desperately? You didn't say, and I require all the details before I accept or decline this."

"Well, I had to be sure you'd arrive first, now didn't I? The ever elusive James Moriarty," the man purred, leaning on his desk.

Jim bristled. "Yes, that's me. Now, what do you _want_? I didn't come here to have polite conversation. To the point, and quickly."

"I think you'll understand the point right... _now_."

Jim stiffened as he felt the cool metal muzzle of a handgun pressed to the back of his neck. A third guard, in the corner of the room, behind the door; he had forgotten to check there. _Fuck_. He glared at the man across the table from him. "Well well. Haven't you been told that it's not _nice_ to point things at people?" he said, keeping his voice light. In his head, though, he was rapidly calculating how he could get out of this; and all of his chances were coming up slim.

"If you move even a centimeter to either side, we blow your head off, so I really wouldn't try any of your 'famed' deductions, Moriarty," the man retorted, standing and nodding to his men.

Jim was forced to stand as his hands were bound behind him, wrists together with plastic zip-ties. "All right. Now... what is it that you want? Can't be little ol' me... you would've killed me by now if it was me you did want. So that leaves...?" he said, raising an eyebrow.

"Your man."

"My wha-?"

"Don't you dare play the stupid card. We heard about _everything_ that happened in South America. As it turns out, you destroyed a decent chunk of my business on your little 'rampage' to rescue your 'pet Tiger'... but then again, he's so much more than a pet now, isn't he?"

Jim went cold, cold as space. "And what do you want with him, exactly?" Jim said. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, _FUCK_. Of course someone had noticed. Of _course_.

"Weeeeeeell," the man drawled, leaning in to whisper in Jim's ear, "I'd rather like to see you completely destroyed, especially since you've quite, how shall we say... lost your touch?" He stood up and brushed imaginary lint from his shoulders. "The fact is you've gone soft. Any idiot can see the ring on your finger, gross and ostentatious as it is. Rather sickeningly romantic if you think about it. _But_ you clearly care enough about Sebastian Moran to burn, torture, and murder hundreds of people to rescue him. I'm rather counting on him feeling exactly as you do."

Jim laughed; he was a hell of an actor, and he was banking on that to get him through this. "Like he'd come for me. Quick question, though. What if he doesn't?"

"Then, again, quite simple. We get him on a video call, and he watches you die. For real this time."

He felt as if his guts had dropped out through his feet; outwardly, he shrugged. "Whatever," he drawled.

The man glanced at the others. "Call him."

oOoOo

Seb nearly leapt out of his skin when his mobile rang, scrambling for it and wrenching it open. "Jimmy?"

There was a sigh, like a rush of static. "Hello, Seb," he said, reading the words that were on the script in front of him.

"That went faster than you thought it would. Everything all right?"

Jim scowled at the man who was holding the phone to his ear, the other man holding a gun pressed tight to his skull. "No."

The blonde's brow furrowed. "Yes or no. Can I be heard by anyone but you?"

"Yes."

"Are you in danger?"

The gun was cocked next to the phone, loud enough for Seb to hear it. "I guess that would answer your question..."

 _Don't panic don't panic don't panic_. "Yes, it does. What do they want you to tell me?"

Jim read from the script. Overdramatic shit, the lot of it. "I'm being held at 892 Farris Street. Room number 48. You are to come quickly and to come alone. Or you'll be getting a video call as I'm taken care of... permanently, this time."

"Tell them I want to speak to the leader and that if they give you or me flack for it, the building will burn." _Not dead, don't you dare, I won't watch him die_...

Jim looked at the man who was still watching him from across the table. "Well, you heard him," he drawled.

"Can he hear me yet? I want to say this right into his ear."

The man picked up the phone. "Yes, he's got it," Jim called out.

"Okay, listen up. I dunno who the fuck you are or who the fuck you think you are, but know this. I have a very, _very_ specific skill set. If you do not return my husband, I will find you. And I will _end_ you. Got that, you socially deformed, piece of rotting sheep intestines?"

Jim had to hold back a snicker as the man paled slightly, then his face went red with anger. Apparently, Seb said something that both frightened him _and_ pissed him off. That's what his Tiger did best.

"Did I fucking stutter? ANSWER ME!"

The man scowled, then his face shifted into an unpleasant smirk. "Oh, we'll wait for you, Moran. Although... your _husband_ will not look as pretty as he did when he left by the time you get here," he said.

All of Seb's insides seemed to freeze and shatter. "If there is so much as one _hair_ out of place you sonofawhore, you'll beg for death and mercy. You clearly know me, so then you've heard the stories. And guess what? They're. _All_ True."

"Oooh, I'm _shaking_. You've gone domestic, Moran. You're a tabby now. Soft and weak, declawed and defanged, fat and spoiled. All talk and no bite, _Tiger_. Come and fetch him. Or what will be left of him." And the man hung up.


	2. Snow-White Magpie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More secrets, an old acquaintaince, and Seb gets resourceful

_How the fuck did that sonofabitch know Jim's name for him_?! Seb leapt from the couch, tearing around the flat and ignoring the residual pain from his side and arm as he dressed in full hit gear. This was clearly a suicide mission, he knew that. He was aware of it... but that was not going to stop him from trying. Gathering everything he could from the arsenal and picking the lock on Jim's office door, Seb triggered the traps and let them run their course before sneaking in and picking up the file on Jim's desk about who he had to face, jotting down the building where he had to go.

Time to do some research...

oOoOo

The man who was holding Jim captive was thoroughly pissed off after he set the phone down; Jim was smirking.

"Gents, wipe that smug little grin off of dear little Jimmy's face."

Jim made a noise of discontent as his suit jacket was cut off of him, his shirt as well. " _Westwood_ ," he hissed as the ruined cloth was discarded. He glared as the men surrounded him. He didn't see anything in their hands at the moment, but that didn't mean that they weren't going to hurt him.

"Now then... I finally have you at _my_ mercy and not the other way around, dear Jimmy. And it seems, as always, that clothes are the most important thing to you. I thought you'd grown out of that childish infatuation with looks. Evidently not."

Jim narrowed his eyes. The face, the voice... it was familiar; then it hit him, and he began to laugh, great roaring laughs that had him doubled over in his chair. "Blake. Blake Masterson from school. Oh my _God_ , you're still a pathetic loser! Twenty years, and you still haven't gotten over the fact that I'm simply _better_ than you," he said between peals of mirth.

A muscle twitching just above his lip, Blake nodded at the man to Jim's left; the consulting criminal's head rocked to the side, and lightning forked across his vision as the butt of the handgun struck his head. He could feel the warm, sluggish flow of blood begin to trail down from where the skin had broken.

"I'm rather surprised you didn't recognize me before. Ever the snob still."

"Well, you _have_ changed. Gotten older. Fatter."

"It's not fat. It's muscle."

"Muscle doesn't droop over the waist of your trousers like that, Blake."

"You're one to talk. With that particular brand of dye you use? How long before you tell your precious husband how much your job is aging you? Will he still love you if you're old and grey decades before him?"

"And what of you, Blake? Still after a quick fuck, can't hold a girl long enough? At least I _have_ someone. I'm not a pathetic, lonely fuckwad like you."

"But I still have my hair and teeth and go to the gym. You're a sad excuse for the man you were before your little accident... all because your precious genius toy couldn't do what you wanted. I loved watching that. Word got out about you in our circles, so I was just biding my time. And look! A snow-white Magpie in my clutches, hair gone grey far before his time from too much sentiment... the last and _only_ one of his kind and no pretty, _tame_ pet Tiger to come and save him."

Jim chuckled. "Ooooh, Blake. If you think he's not going to come for me, you are _sorely_ mistaken," he said, his voice soft and kind; the combination unsettling.

"Yes... I am still counting on it. Gents, haul  him to the bathroom. I want blood dripping and hair dye gone. Let's show this Tiger who the _real_ James Moriarty is," Blake grinned, nodding at his men.

"Never took you for a hairdresser, Blake. That's what... oh, what was her name? Sylvia? Yeah, Sylvia. _Real_ sweetheart. Sylvia wanted to be a hairdresser. She _loved_ playing with my hair," he said as he was dragged up from his seat.

The heavier man's knuckles went white mere seconds before he slugged Jim in the jaw hard enough to raise a decent bruise. "She was far too good for you, _vermin_."

Jim laughed and spat blood in Blake's face. "But she _was_. _Such_ a nice girl..." he leered and waggled his eyebrows.

A single hand clasped around the Irishman's throat, easily cutting off the air supply. "You were saying?"

He wheezed as Blake gripped his throat, forcing the air out of his lungs. He was only released when his vision started to go black around the edges. The other man was clearly furious now, which was what Jim wanted. Being angry would make him sloppier. And that would make it easier for Seb to take him out. Taking a switchblade from his pocket, Blake twirled it before slicing thin lines of red just lightly down either side of Jim's throat and three lines in the crook of each elbow. "Lemon and salt in the red, and get the dye out of his hair. Leave me to think."

Jim hissed as the astringent and salt were applied to his open wounds. Oh, that _stung_ like a motherfucker, but he wasn't about to give his tormentor the satisfaction of hearing him cry out in pain. He was marched over to the sink and his head was shoved under the faucet, chemicals roughly slathered in his hair to strip the dye from it. It swirled and washed down the drain like ink, leaving his hair a dirty color before a second treatment was applied. When they were done, he was dripping wet and his hair, snow-white, was plastered wetly to his head. Popping the top on his decanter of Scotch, Blake poured out a glass, sniffing appreciatively. "Your man is rather fond of Scotch, is he not? Oh, and gentlemen: three more stripes on each bicep, and I don't think he got enough lemon and salt before. Crush it in this time."

The knives went a little deeper this time, and the salt and lemon were ground roughly into the open and bleeding wounds. Jim hissed louder, baring his teeth; he glared at Blake from where he was sitting.

"Oh? Don't like it? And you never answered me before. How is your Tiger when plied with liquor? Tame? Rough? Bet you like it rough, don't you? Tell me, does he let you take the lead?"

Jim laughed hoarsely. "Like I'd gossip about my sex life with _you_."

"You bragged enough about it at school. Has he ever topped? Bet you scream like a girl."

He snorted. "Again, like I'd talk about my sex life with you. What was it that they called you in school? Blake Lasts-a-second? That _was_ it! Sylvia _did_ complain about that..."

"Gag him."

He laughed even as duct tape was roughly slapped across his mouth.


	3. Songbird

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time for the songbird to have wings

Guns strapped to his back and hips, knives tucked in his boots, and extra ammo in his belt, Sebastian crept though the parking garage to the fire escape. He could see the men standing guard on the upper floor, and all he needed now was to silence them and fast.

oOoOo

Blake had grown bored with the pocket knife, lemon juice and salt. So he moved on to playing darts, with Jim as his dartboard. The captive winced every time the small, weighted barbs hooked into his skin, driving deep in his flesh, but he never gave his tormentor the satisfaction of hearing him cry out.

"So stoic, little bird. Won't you try and fly away?"

Jim sighed. Idiot must have forgotten about the gag that still was taped over his mouth.

"I haven't forgotten. Trust me, I am going to _enjoy_ this."

He raised an eyebrow. God, he was so dull; even his torture methods were boring.

"Sleepy so soon? Such an old Magpie. I think a bit of fire will cheer you right up. You _are_ the one who likes to watch things burn, after all," Blake chuckled, standing and stretching. Jim felt the hairs on the back on his neck prickle. Damn it. He watched as an assortment of metal implements were laid out on the dingy table in front of him: tinfoil, what looked like a scalpel, a knitting needle...

oOoOo

Creeping catlike up the metal steps, Seb fired his silenced gun at the first guard, swinging up and catching him before he could fall and clatter; the sniper dispatched the second guard the same way. The third, however, let out a brief squawk from his radio before falling. _Fuck_.

Listening hard, Seb counted three more on their way, and he lowered the gun towards the only entrance to the fire escape... as Jim's scream split the air.

oOoOo

As much as he tried to be the 'stoic magpie' that Blake had mockingly called him, the red-hot metal of the scalpel on his shoulder blades was agonizing, the sensation burning and cutting at the same time.

"Now that's more like it! I knew the Magpie could sing. Needle and thread, next, gents."

He nearly bit through his lip as the needle and thread were roughly shoved through the split flesh and sewn crudely back together.

"No more sweet songs? Too bad, you sang ever so well," Black hissed in Jim's ear, binding off the thread and tearing it to sever the connection. "A pair of wings for our pet bird. The mirror. Show him."

"Well, quite the artists you have, Blake," Jim said hoarsely, his pale flesh paler from the pain. "And yellow really isn't my color," he said, commenting on the choice in thread.

"No, yours is red. Silver-white now, but it used to be red. You could never go anywhere without at least something of that color on your person. Yellow is weak, just like you."

He chuckled, the sound weaker now. "No... no, Blake. Yellow suits _you_ more. The color of cowardice."

"I caught you. I'm taunting your man who clearly isn't coming. Did I forget to mention my time deadline of midnight?" His grin grew wider as the clocks in the city of London began to chime. "Time to die, Jimmy."

"You sure you want to do that?"


	4. The Way You Fear

Jim's head snapped up. Seb. Seb was standing in the doorway, his face like murder, splashed with blood, smoking gun in hand. And oh, he looked _divine_.

"Did I not... _specifically_ say that if even one hair was harmed then you'd be begging for mercy?" the sniper said softly, casually reloading his gun and snapping the new clip home.

"Oh, but I _haven't_ harmed your precious Magpie. I've just... enhanced him, shall we say," Blake said, smirking, still blocking Jim from Seb's view. "Turned him into _quite_ the work of art."

Steely blue eyes slowly raised and looked the man dead in the face. "You're nothing but an overgrown sack of dough. Move out of the way or I end you. Slowly, in every single way you fear." (1)

"Oh, I'll move. After all, I _do_ want you to see how good dear Jimmy looks," he said, sneering as he stepped to the side.

Sebastian's eyes widened in pure shock and horror. Jim was dripping blood from the temple, his throat, various cuts on his arms, and his back... his back was a bloody, jagged, fleshy mess.

And none of that could compare with his head.

"Wh-what happened to your hair, Jimmy?"

"H'lo, luv," Jim said hoarsely. "I... ah... it happened while you were sleeping those two days."

"It's white, James. You're hair. Is. White."

"Yes, Tiger, it is."

"Why is it white?"

"Shock, I think. And stress. Or... " Jim didn't get to finish his sentence as the last of Blake's guards sprang from the shadows (behind that bloody _door_ again) and launched himself at Seb.

One shot and Seb stepped out of the way, letting the fatally wounded man crash through the window. "Is he the one who got you? Surprised, James. You're getting _old_." HIs tone was neutral, devoid of emotion.

Jim froze. Seb sounded so _cold_. "Yeah, well, been a bit of a rough month for me," he said, keeping his tone light, conversational. "Was a bit _distracted_."

"I know, and it made you sloppy." The blonde faced Masterson, eyeing him slowly. "Very well, that just leaves you now."

The man paled and swallowed hard. "Very well done. So, since Jimmy here has gotten so old and sloppy, why don't you come and work for me instead? Bet I can pay you twice of what he does. Better Scotch, too," he said.

Seb seemed to consider it for a long moment. "Hmmm... _no_ ," and the first shot rang out.

Blake screamed and sank to the floor, a gaping, bloody hole where his left knee had been. Jim smiled, the expression fierce and feral. He _loved_ to watch his Tiger work.

Three more shots left Blake with no knees or elbows as such, and then Seb crouched down over the man's quivering form. "You gave him _wings_ you sick fuck. What should I give you, hmm?"

"A slow death? Although I _do_ like what you've done to his knees and elbows," Jim said from his chair.

"Makes him a quivering blob: exactly what he is without his henchmen. So..." he mused, cutting away Blake's jacket and shirt and ripping them clear to his screams as his arms were moved. "I wonder how detailed I can make your stomach without your guts showing? Care to place a wager?"

"No, please no! God, please, no!" Blake begged, tears streaming down his face.

"Why not carve a Tiger there, m'love? After all, you _do_ have a large enough canvas," Jim said, snickering.

"Shut up, James."

Jim growled but held his tongue as Seb set to work.

"Now then... I think I've decided. I want you to remember who you decided to fuck with, you coward. Not willing to show your face, not willing to do anything but snatch James once he was out of my reach. Petty. Childish. Idiotic. Irretrievably stupid. And you know what else? I haven't done a proper kill in ages. So you get letters, you maggot. An 'S' for simpering, sniveling, snake... and an 'M'. 'M' for murderous, malicious, mutton head. 'S' and 'M' for Sebastian Moran. Remember my name while you live. And scream if you can." He pulled out his lighter and heated the blade of his knife for five entire minutes before sinking it into the flesh and fat of the bleeding man's stomach and carving slow, straight edged, block letters; Jim grinned, the sounds of Blake Masterson's screams a sweet balm to his ears.

The sniper took his time, dragging out the torture for a decent fifteen minutes until the man was white faced and gasping for breath, tears leaking from his eyes. "You do realize I'm not done? That I can harm you in a thousand different ways even now and have you not die? And even more where you will?"

"I'msorryI'msorryI'msorry," the man babbled, half-crazed with terror and pain.

" _Not good enough_ ," Sebastian hissed, cutting a thin line of red around the skin of each nipple on Blake's chest; the man screamed more, although Jim couldn't see _why_. After all, Seb was really being surprisingly gentle with the man.

"I. Am. A. Tiger. A wild animal, untamed, uncaged, and you hurt the man who feeds me. You took away the one person in the world who guaranteed your demise. I'm going to cut you open like a stuffed toy, Blake. Cut open your seams just as you sewed James Moriarty up. And then I will rub salt in your wounds and leave you to die, in agony, immobile, on fire, and alone."

Jim purred from where he sat, the wounds on his back twinging as he moved slightly, the other wounds stinging as sweat ran into them and mixed with the salt and lemon juice that remained behind. He watched as Seb set to work, pinning Blake's hands to the floor with some of the implements that he had used to torture Jim with; the knitting needle and scalpel did their work well, and then he began to split the larger man along the seams, just as he said he would. Blake screamed himself hoarse as Seb slowly vivisected him and took the large canister of salt that was on the table behind him, not far out of reach.

"If I can do so without spilling you all over the carpet, I'll grind this in," the blond snarled, letting a slow trickle of salt settle in every wound on the man and dumping nearly half the container into the letters on Blake's stomach. The salt quickly turned red and dissolved and Blake screamed all the louder as the salt settled in; flicking open his lighter, Seb stripped the man the rest of the way, wadded up his clothes, and lit them on fire so that they just touched his feet. "You should be more than enough kindling," he spat, turning back to Jim and packing up his tools. Before the flames could spread, Seb was out the window and onto the fire escape with the smaller man over his shoulder while Blake's shrieks and screams rent the nighttime air.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (1)- Yes, I stole this from Loki. I've wanted to use this for several hours.


	5. Let It Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So that's why Seb is so angry

Jim's vision began to fade in and out. He hadn't given Blake the satisfaction of passing out, but now... now it just _hurt_ so much. His back was on fire, his head throbbed, everything was _pain_. "Goin' home?" he hoarsely asked Seb.

"Yes, we are," the man answered, his words short and clipped.

"Y'r angry. Why?"

"If you die before we get home, I'll bring you back to life and then kill you myself. Save your strength, fucktard."

Jim chuckled. "Like I'd die 'n leave you alone..."

"You nearly did! And you have before."

"Wasn't really dead, though. An' I came back to you... I'll _always_ come back t'you, Sebby," Jim said. The world was fading around him now, going dark.

"Nearly there. Don't you dare die on me. I want the chance to rip you a new one before that happens."

"Not gonna _die_ ," the younger man grumbled. "Wanna sleep..."

"No sleeping either." Seb felt like he wanted to cry, so he pinched his husband instead as he flew into the private garage beneath their building, skidding to a stop in their parking spot.

"Owwwww, that hurts," the consulting criminal whimpered, his voice strangely plaintive.

The sniper parked the car and jumped out, scooping Jim into his arms, locking the door, and rushing up to their flat; he set his husband in the bathtub before pulling out the first aid kit, dumping all his weapons, and stripping the rest of the ruined Westwood from Jim's body.

"Fucker ruined m'suit... I liked that one," Jim slurred as his head lolled against the edge of the tub. "S' the one you gave me..."

Biting back tears, Seb gave Jim a shot of adrenaline and pulled out his suture kit and clean knife. He ran the water as hot as he could and let it gently wash Jim clean.

"MotherFUCKER!!!" Jim shouted as the adrenaline hit his system. "That _hurts_!"

"Good. Means you're still alive," the blonde growled, washing the wounds on Jim's arms and neck until all traces of salt and lemon were gone. He sponged the smaller man's head wound clean and sewed it up before turning his attention to Jim's back, pointedly avoiding the white hair plastered to his lover's skull. Blake had clearly done a hack job, so Sebastian had to remove the thread, wash the jagged cuts and then sew Jim up himself. He waited until he had completely finished to turn on the shower head and douse Jim completely from the chest down, avoiding his back and head so he wouldn't have to re-do his work.

"Ow ow owowowowow..." Jim hissed through clenched teeth. "You done yet, Seb? I'm _tired_ ," he said, his voice weary.

"Keep talking like that, and I'll find more adrenaline." He shut the shower off and threw Jim a towel. "Dry off and come through and I'll finish your arms." Seb left without another word.

The injured man sighed and gingerly worked his way out of the tub, toweling off before padding, still a bit damp, into the kitchen where Seb was waiting.

"Sit."

Jim did, scowling. "Care to tell me why you're so pissed?"

"Bet you can guess."

"Like I was supposed to know this was going to be a trap."

"Yeah, but you left me AT HOME!"

"It _happens_ , Seb. I had to for this one. I've done it before, and I'm sure I'll do it again. Like I knew it was going to be an ambush! I may be a genius, but I'm not omniscient!" Jim spat.

"You'll do it again?! _AGAIN_?!" Seb roared, knocking over his chair. "I'd thought you'd be worse than dead if I were extremely lucky, and here you are, bleeding before me, fucking _wings_ carved into your flesh by some fat tub of lard. All because I was going to distract you? If you had brought me along, _you moron_ , you wouldn't be hurt!"

"No, if I had brought you along, they would have overpowered you, then strapped you to a chair and forced you to watch as they really _did_ kill me."

"You have no way of knowing that. I took all of them out singlehanded-"

"BECAUSE THEY DIDN'T KNOW YOU WERE COMING," Jim roared back, wincing as he felt the stitches in his back stretch and the wounds bleed a little.

"Sit still, careful. Oh James... Jimmy..."

He hissed as Seb staunched the flow as best he could, then he chuckled. "Guess I really do live up to the Magpie nickname now... have the wings to prove it."

"Yes you do... god, these are gonna take ages to heal, Jimmy."

"I know," scowled Jim. "Doesn't help that the fucker used salt, too. Now I know how a steak feels."

"I can imagine. Now, hold still. Gotta bind it so it'll start to clot."

He grit his teeth and dug his nails into the wood of the table as Seb started to bandage him up, again nearly biting through the skin of his lips to keep quiet.

"Stop bottling it up, luv. You did enough of that for him."

Jim hissed as Seb tightened the bandages. "Aaaaaagh, that _hurts_ ," he said, his voice cracking with the pain.

"I know. Hang on," he muttered, rummaging through the kit and pulling out something. "Morphine," he explained, jabbing the needle into his lover's arm.

Jim sighed in relief as the blessed numbness of the drug washed through him. "When you're done, _then_ can I go to bed?" he mumbled, through the haze of the pain and the painkiller.

"Of course, luv." He finished bandaging him a few minutes later and helped him up.

Jim leaned heavily on Seb as he helped him into the bedroom and into the bed. "Stay with me?"

"Let me change first. Still covered in blood," he replied, pulling back the covers and helping Jim into bed.

"'kay. Don't take too long," Jim murmured sleepily, the morphine making him loose-limbed.

Seb was changed in thirty seconds and back in bed, cradling his husband in his arms. "You still awake?"

"Mmm, a bit," Jim said, moving gingerly so his head could rest on Seb's chest.

Carding his fingers through Jim's hair, Seb started softly crying, realizing how close he'd come to losing him. Moving his mangled arms as much as he could, Jim stroked his husband's face. "Shhhh, shhh, my Tiger. M' here," he said, slurring his words slightly as the morphine took a greater hold on him.

"Nearly lost you again. Can't keep doing this... and I feel like you grew old without me."

Jim scowled. "Like I wanted to be like this?" he said, gesturing to his hair.

"What happened? Why'd you hide it from me?"

"Think, doofus. Walking around with white hair is _awfully_ conspicuous. And... and I was afraid..." He let the sentence trail off.

"Afraid of what?" the sniper whispered.

"I was afraid that... that you'd leave me. For someone younger. That I would be too old for you after that," Jim said, a tear leaking out of his eye. "That... that you wouldn't love me anymore."

Sebastian couldn't see anything as he crashed their lips together, kissing Jim as if he could breathe for him. He held the man as tenderly as he could while snogging him relentlessly, taking and molding their mouths, exploring and teasing with his tongue, all the while tears dripping from the corners of his eyes. Jim held him and kissed Seb back as hard and as fiercely as he could, wiping the tears he could reach off of his husband's face.

"How-" the blonde gasped, his voice cracking when he pulled away for air, "-how could you think I'd stop loving you? I love you so much I feel I'll explode, Jimmy. I can't get enough of you." He dove back in for another kiss, rolling so that Jim was on top of him and relieving any and all pressure from the younger man's back.

"I don't know, Seb. I just... I don't. But hearing that... that makes it all better," Jim said, once he managed to free his mouth from Sebastian's. Panting, he rested on top of him, his face buried in the crook of where his husband's neck and shoulder met, taking in his scent.

"We'll dye it again tomorrow, fix you up for your image. But... but I'll always remember how your love for me, how it changed you, turned you pale with fear... reminded you how to feel."

"I've always known how to feel, Seb. It's just that I didn't know how to _express_ it. And that I'm afraid to feel too much."

"Why would that be a bad thing?"

"Because it'd be _too much_ , Seb. Feeling so much all the time. And I can't- I can't cope. So I become Jim the Psychopath to deal with it."

The larger man gently eased Jim's head up so that he could look at him. "Then let me help. Let me take the emotions when they're too much. Give me what you can't handle, tell me, talk to me, don't give me another replay of the 'Nightmare incident.'"

Jim nodded, his eyelids starting to droop. "A'right, Seb," he said quietly, starting to drift off as fatigue, the loss of adrenaline and the morphine began to take their toll.

"I'll be here when you wake, my love. You gotta heal. I need you better. I need you back. Let me have _you_ back, Magpie," Sebastian murmured, kissing the white hair on Jim's head.

"I'll try, 'Bastian," Jim said. "I'll try." And he fell asleep.


	6. I've Missed You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Together, in every sense of the word

_Two months later..._

Seb put the finishing touches on dinner, throwing glances at the office door every few minutes. The doctor had been in there for ages with Jim, and they just needed a clean bill of health and for Jim to be fully healed before they could put the terrible ordeal behind them. The consulting criminal came out with a scowl on his face, the doctor swiftly leaving, his business done. He stomped over to the table and sat down heavily in a chair.

The sniper's heart nearly stopped. "It's worse, infected, you're ill, Jimmy-"

He couldn't help it; his face split into a grin and he started laughing. "Clean bill of health, my love. I'm fine."

Seb had to repress the urge to hit him. "You little fucker."

"Now now, darling, is that any way to talk to me when I'm planning to fuck you senseless after dinner?" Jim purred, getting close to Seb.

All of the blood in Seb's body positively fled south. "I-if you want dinner... y-y-you _really_ shouldn't say stuff like... like that."

"Then let's eat. The quicker this is done, the quicker I can take you to bed."

"We could skip the food-"

"And miss the marvelous meal you cooked for me? Not likely. Let's eat, Tiger," Jim said, starting to serve them both. He began cutting up the steak and made positively indecent noises as he ate, his eyes rolling back in his head. "This is _phenomenal_ , Seb," Jim said as he ate.

It didn't take long for the blonde to start shooting daggers at Jim with his eyes. "Not fair," he grumbled

"You know, you _can_ eat," Jim said, cutting the excess meat away from the bone and dissecting it into bite-size portions.

"Bit... ah... distracted, _Boss_."

Jim purred as he took the bone and tore into the meat that remained. "Mmhm..." he murmured.

That did it. Sebastian snapped and began tearing at the meet with his fingers and teeth, devouring it like a wild animal. Jim's lips curled into a grin as he saw Seb eat, really resembling his nickname. "My, aren't you... _eager_ ," he said, smirking.

"In a rush," he mumbled, sucking on the bone to get the remains of the meat clinging to it.

"Don't go too fast... wouldn't want you to get a cramp," Jim said, continuing to eat somewhat properly, licking the juice from his fingers, cleaning them one at a time, slowly. He kept his brown eyes fixed on Seb, deliberately teasing.

The sniper started pumping the bone in and out of his mouth, moaning around it and treating it (essentially) just like Jim's cock. The younger man shivered and groaned. "Okay. Dinner is over, I think," he said, his voice hoarse.

Seb slowly shook his head as he stared brazenly at Jim, pushed the bone to the back of his throat, and swallowed. Jim's eyes went dark. He stood up abruptly. "Bed. _Now_ ," he ordered, but the sniper just cocked his head, still suckling the bone and smirking slightly.

"Fine. If that's the way you're going to be, I'll just wank a few times and let you sleep on the couch," Jim said, unashamedly palming his erection through his trousers.

Blue eyes narrowed as Seb pulled the now clean bone from his mouth. "Race you," he purred before tearing off through the flat. Jim followed, hot on his heels, managing to just edge past Seb. With a flying leap, he landed on the bed.

"Cheater."

"Not my fault you're slow. Now strip. I want you so badly my eyes are starting to cross," Jim said, already fumbling with the buttons of his shirt, his suit jacket already discarded.

It didn't take too long for Seb to shed his clothes, kicking them into the corner as he glanced up at the old canopy above their bed. Jim smiled as he saw the canopy, the bloodstained sheet now darker with age. "Ahhh, fond memories," he sighed. "Here, Tiger. Help me off with these bandages. Let's see my wings now that I can show them off."

Turning Jim so that he sat on the edge of the bed and faced the headboard, Sebastian gently unwrapped the unstained bandages from his back and chest, gasping in awe. What had originally looked grotesque and painful not looked vaguely elegant and exotic. "Oh, _Jimmy_..."

Jim used the mirror that was nearby to survey the handiwork that was left carved into his flesh. He shifted his shoulders and watched as his 'wings' rippled. He smiled. "Hmmm... not bad," he said. "Even if it hurt like hell, it looks pretty nice, actually."

"You truly are a bird now, my love," Seb murmured, lowering his lips to the scars.

He shivered and his eyes fluttered shut as he felt Seb's lips trace the patterns that the knife had left behind. He felt goosebumps rise on his skin. Mouthing and licking, once or twice using a single tooth, Sebastian followed the path the scalpel had taken in carving up his beloved, relearning the new skin on Jim's back, relearning Jim himself. They hadn't been together since the 'Nightmare Incident', and the past few weeks had been absolute torture; Jim had been on strict rest and minimal movement in order to make sure he healed properly.

The consulting criminal moaned at the feeling of his husband's teeth and tongue and lips on his skin. " _God_ Sebby," he gasped, "I _need_ you."

"Then I am here for the _taking_."

He growled and turned, dragging Seb onto to the mattress and pinning him there. He fairly attacked the larger man, claiming his mouth with a ferocity bordering on desperation. Teeth, tongue, lips, re-learning his lover's taste and scent. He dragged his mouth away so he could nip and mouth his way down Seb's neck, moving toward his collarbone, dipping his tongue into the hollow of his throat.

Sebastian gasped, arching up to meet his husband's touch. "N-no mercy tonight... d-do _exactly_ what you w-want, Jimmy."

Jim snapped his head up, his eyes black as night. "Oooooh, that is an _extremely_ dangerous thing to tell me," he growled, his voice rough. He circled his hips once, twice, three times against Seb's where he was straddling him, and then, rumbling a growl in his throat, he dragged his teeth down the flesh of his husband's chest, laving a nipple with his tongue before capturing it and suckling hard.

"AHHHH!!!!! D-don't stop... p-please..."

Jim chuckled. "Why would I do that? After what you so... _generously_ offered, that would be downright rude," he murmured into Seb's skin. Removing his grip from Seb's wrists, he continued to trail his way downward, down his torso and abdomen, feathering light kisses down the faint trail of blonde hair that led to the next of curls that crowned his cock. He made a pleased noise in his throat as he darted out his tongue to taste Seb's manhood.

The blonde's blue eyes practically rolled back to see his brain. "Fffffffuck... oh Jimmy... oh god..."

Not wanting to waste any time, Jim took Seb's cock in his mouth and swallowed him to the hilt without any preamble. He moaned around him, swallowing  and letting the muscles of his throat contract around it; the sniper fisted the sheets, pulling them almost free of the mattress. "YES! OHYES! T-too soon... g-gonna... JAMES!"

Sliding his mouth off of Seb with a loud pop, Jim's lips curved into a wicked grin. "Wait here, I nearly forgot something," he said, going off into the closet and rummaging around. He returned with a large, elegantly wrapped box. "Consider it a very delayed honeymoon gift for the both of us. I was going to give it to you when we were in Belize, but... well..."

"Don't." Seb kissed him, grinning as he sampled traces of himself on his lover's tongue. He eagerly ripped the paper away and opened the box, blushing furiously as he smirked at his husband. "What do you propose we use first?" It was an entire box for the kinky: vibrators, collars, cuffs, butt plugs, special lube, _everything_ was in here.

"Well, seeing as you were reaching the edge earlier..." Jim selected a magnificently carved ring and slid it over Seb's arousal, fitting it snugly around his base. "Now we don't have to worry about _that_."

The resulting groan that tore from Seb's chest made the bed shake. "Oh f-f-fuuuuuck."

Taking a pair of cuffs and attaching them to Seb's wrists and around a post of the bed, he found the bottle of warming lube and slicked himself up, prepping Seb's entrance as well. Every motion of Jim's hand and fingers made everything hotter, the friction not only driving Sebastian mad but literally making the lube heat and warm, relaxing his muscles. "Jim... Jimmy... Magpie... I want you... want you inside... want to feel you..."

"And you shall have me." Sliding his fingers out of Seb, he eased his arousal into him, moaning low in his throat as he felt his lover's muscles jump and clench around him. "Oooh, my _Tiger_... you feel so good," he purred as he began to move.

After so long without being together like this, Sebastian truly felt he might combust. He was marvelously full, every thrust and roll heating up his entrance and hole until he thought he was on fire. He strained against the cuffs, gasping and moaning and whimpering. Jim began to move faster, his fingers digging hard into Seb's hips as he snapped his own, sinking his teeth into the skin of Seb's shoulder, worrying it slightly as he continued to pound into his husband.

"YES!" He could feel his orgasm forced back almost painfully by the ring around him, the lack of contact with his cock nearly painful... but he knew that like this, Jim could wank him as long as he wanted with no true result. His husband was everywhere, his very scent overwhelming Seb's nostrils. "More... what you want... as long as you can..."

After so long without his lover's touch, though, Jim knew he wasn't going to last much longer. He slowly eased the ring off of Seb and began to thrust even harder, hitting his sweet spot with every stroke. He began to pump his hand around Seb in time with the movement of his hips. "Oh, my love..." he murmured into Seb's ear, nipping the lobe, "my beautiful Tiger, my _Husband_... come for me. Come for _me_."

It was a complete sensory overload; Sebastian couldn't even remember what had come out of his mouth afterwards aside from his screams of ecstasy as he came, violently, all over his and Jim's chests and his husband's hand. He was shaking and sweating, gasping for breath and clenching tight while Jim continued to pound him into the mattress. The younger man hissed and growled, groaning Seb's name as he jerked and shuddered, his cock pulsing as he came inside of him. "Oh yes... oh my love, that was _perfect_ ," he groaned as he slowly withdrew. He wiped himself off, a wicked smirk creeping across his face. Diving down, he began to clean Seb off, his tongue lapping at the mess he had made.

As feeling in his various extremities came back and his brain started working again, Seb nearly passed out at the feeling of Jim's tongue against his swollen, abused, deliciously sore entrance. He moaned wantonly, tugging at the cuffs around his wrists. "Ahh!! Oh f-fuck... ohgod..."

Jim lapped gently, working his way up to mouth Seb's sac, then his cock, cleaning every last drop of release off of him before kissing his way up to Seb's chest and finishing there. He undid the cuffs from around his lover's wrists, massaging the blood back into his hands as he claimed Seb's mouth in a hot kiss. Almost sobbing with relief as his body tremored slightly from oversensitivity, Sebastian devoured Jim's mouth, taking in their combined tasted as they burned across his tongue. Jim moaned into the kiss before he released Seb's mouth, panting softly. He smirked at him before nuzzling into his skin. "It's good to be back, my heart," he murmured softly, shivering slightly as the sweat dried on his skin.

The blonde barely had enough frame of mind to pull the duvet over them and curl up around his lover, wincing as his aching, limp cock brushed against his husband's skin. "I've missed you _so much_ , Jimmy," he whispered into the man's ear, pressing gentle feather kisses there

Gently carding his fingers through Seb's golden curls, now damp with sweat, Jim smiled gently. "I've missed you too."

"You're th'best lover ever, Magpie," he mumbled, encompassing as much of Jim's body as he could with his limbs and kissing down along the top of the smaller man's shoulder blades. "I love you. Always. Always, _always_."

"An' I love you, Tiger. Always. Always. _Always_."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is that fastest we've ever written a complete story. I'll regret being behind in my work, but it was totally worth it. Special thanks to Tracey who gave us the idea for 'Cry Havoc' and led us to go "We need a companion called 'Let Slip the Dogs of War'" (Julius Caesar is where that is from). Keep all the reviews coming, read our stories, and we take our hats off to you, the reader. It's way more fun to write knowing there are people out there who appreciate what we do.  
> Cheers.


End file.
